


The cliffs to the North

by Carliro



Category: Walking with Prehistoric Life Series RPF
Genre: Pterodactyl, arguable crackfic, pterosaur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carliro/pseuds/Carliro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pterosaur dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The cliffs to the North

Dusk paints the waves in various tones of orange, the water basically molten gold with ink at sunset. The sky is more elegant in this regard: it is set ablaze, the clouds fiery masses as their painter dies slowly at the horizon. As darkness sets, the light sings it's swan song, and gloriously does the Sun give it's last breath for today.

The lone pterosaur cannot apreciate this spectacle. As the thermals die, the flying reptile sees himself forced to flap the wings more frequently and more powerfully. This problem will one day be shared by countless large birds - the ancestors of whom flock around the winged titan, in curiousity or in search for scraps -, though they will not be tired in such an elegant maner.

The ornithocheiroid desesperately searches for a nightly roost. These sharp, vertical cliffs won't do it, as he is both a poor climber and grossly out of space with so many other flying animals perched. Some take flight in terror, but all they do is provide him with food as he captures them with his jaws - the space they left behind is pathetically small.

Suddenly, the ocean draws a dying sigh, a gust of wind. The Ornithocheirus, until then loosing altitude, quickly takes this opportunity and rises in the air. He manages to spot a cave, near the top of the cliffs, and descends towards it. It is small, but big enough to accommodate his massive body. Clumsily landing on it's jagged border, he basically falls his way inside, his wings touching the walls. Still, it is a confortable enough place to spend the night, although it will be hard to get out in the morning.

Preening his coat of pycnofibrils, the flying animal spreads his limbs before setting himself ready for rest. His sleep is a series of quick naps, as the night goes on, much like in birds. This creates a sot of bizarre state of conscience, between asleep and awaken, his perceptions of reality gradually distorting as the night goes on. His dreams, so limited by this zig-zagging sleep, are mere flashes of light in the mind's eye, vivid and bright, but ephemeral.

He likes to dream. It's like a lightning storm, except without the risks of being killed.

More importantly, is is enlightened, figuratively and literally. Brightness floods all his dreams, tapestries of white, gold and blue burned in his mind. And amidst the surreal, there's new information, glimpses of new knowledge. If his species had a word for it - they quite literally don't have a word for anything other than "I want to shag you" or "Fuck off" -, "divination" would be it, though even then it's quite not entirely accurate.

As the night proceeds, as the shock between dream and conscience becomes more intense, so do the dreams, his state of mind becomes trippier by the second, and he loves every minute of it. The cave flood with light in one second and is left with empty darkness in the other, like a deranged night/cycle. Images are brought forth by that light; abstract symbols, other animals, and bizarre glimpses. All this occurs at lightning speed, yet everything is burned into his mind like someone poked him with multiple cattle rods in the brain.

Suddenly, one particular picture captures his attention, and keeps returning every dream he has for the rest of the night.

It is a bizarre creature, bipedal, but not like a theropod, being fully erect and plantigrade. It's face is very weird, like no other animal in existence, and it's body is naked. It does remind it of the mammals, but even then it is difficult to connect it with any mammal there is.

Finally, as the dawn rises, his dreams loose intensity, and his final naps are dark, finally giving in to the true light of the Sun. The Ornithocheirus climbs off the cave, propulsing himself into the air, falling and then opening his massive wings to rise into the sky.

The bizarre creature is still in his thoughts.

He finds the need to fly to the south.


End file.
